Marriage Counseling
by fallic
Summary: One night after the fall of the Dark Lord, the Lestranges take the search for him into their own hands. Violence, language. Unbeta'd. Longer oneshot, R


The night was still young, with the waxing moon hanging too low in the sky, as if it was suddenly too big for the heavens and was about to come crashing in to the Earth. It was a sickly colour, a yellow-white which was almost grey, the colour you only see on the faces of the very old and the very sick, when neither of them had much longer to live. The wind put a bit of a nip into the air, and most people had long since retreated to the comfort and safety of their homes. Maybe that was why it seemed so silent that every noise was oppressive. The chirp of crickets sounded like an orchestra, and the whisper of their coat sleeves against their sides was louder than fabric had any right to be. The clip of the woman's high heels against the pavement was particularly loud, short and angry sounds which matched her mood.

"I don't see why we have to go through with it like this. It's demeaning. It goes against everything—I don't see why we don't just apparate up to their door, blow it down—"

"You know the Ministry's warned people. The whole secret-handshakes and passwords and whatever else childish safety mechanisms they could think of. Their door, however, is probably about as sturdy as one in Gringott's. Besides, we're keeping a low profile, yes?" It was rare that Rodolphus had to play the part of councilor, and he didn't particularly like it. That was what his brother was for, after all. His wife gave a haughty snort, which proved just how long he'll be paying for that little comment. They continued in silence for a few minutes, and Rodolphus ran a hand up through his hair to help brush it back out of his eyes, looking critically at the houses on the street.

"They're pathetic, aren't they? Look at that. How can a family live in one of those, do you think? There's hardly room to turn around." Saying as both of them were from the more affluent families, the townhouses looked smaller than either of their closets. That, at least, Bellatrix could agree to with a nod, although she still wasn't speaking to him. At the failed attempt of conversation, the man gave a long sigh, looking to the heavens in a 'why me' manner which men all over the world have always given, when faced with a frigid wife. "I believe we're almost there, dear." He added, looking at the house numbers so quaintly painted beside the doors.

She made a sound of indifference back at him, still resolutely staring in the opposite direction.

Another minute and they had arrived, standing in front of the door. A few seconds as Bella trying to fix her hair and make sure that her make-up wasn't ruined, judging by the reflection of the metal doorknob, then she looked at him, rather aspirated. Rodolphus looked back at her blankly. She took it as the cue to try and make the shoulders of his suit lie correctly, tighten his belt, and try to do a number of other demeaning touch-ups to his appearance. He rode through it with the grimly set jaw, commonly seen on knights riding off to war. Finally the silent question of 'are we ready yet' before she nodded, turning back towards the door. Both of the deatheaters put on wide, cheerful smiles, before her finger pressed the doorbell.

"Frank! Frank, someone's at the door. Go see who it is, will you?" The young mother was busy fussing with her son, who had woken up and refused to go back to his bed, no matter the use of warm milk and rocking. Her husband stirred from his chair, rolling his eyes just faintly and giving a nod despite the fact that she was in the other room. Pulling himself up, he moved to the door and looked out the small window to see their visitors. A couple, both with those hideous smiles of salespeople, a rictus of promised satisfaction. Judging from the modest cut of the woman's skirt and jacket set, and the fact that the man in a muggle suit had already raised his briefcase to remove a pamphlet:

"Damn Jesuits," Frank muttered under his breath, giving a sigh and beginning to turn away from the door once again. Almost as soon as he did, the doorbell was pressed again, and finally he turned back to the door, undoing the locks. The words 'we're not interested' were already half through his mouth as he opened the door, although they were blasted away with the hex that had him stumbling back across the foray. Apparently the wholesome young man hadn't been going for a pamphlet after all.

The duo came in and cast a now professional eye around the entrance, and Frank opened his mouth to shout a warning to his wife, although only the faintest muted groan managed past his lips. It certainly was one hard spell they had thrown at him.

"You truss him up. I'll go find the woman." The man nodded, keeping the wand in his hand but putting down the briefcase. His partner already had the door closed and was redoing the locks before casting a number of anti-personal wards and silences for the house. She gave him a long cool glare. Finally he was the one who looked away. "I'll tie him up." He said finally, like a three-year-old in a sulk. She praised him with a bright smile, turning to walk carefully up through the house.

Frank glowered up at his captor, and as he slowly because to pull his aching body up once more, the next hex came almost lazily. "Oh no. We can't let you think of something like that, now can we? Come now. You wouldn't happen to be able to lend me a few lengths of rope, would you?" A cultured laugh as he flicked his wand expertly, and then everything went black.

It was only a matter of waiting, now. They had done what they needed to; Bellatrix had met the woman as she came down the stairs, and now both of their targets were tied to the chairs. They had shimmied into their black robes, put on the masks, although Rodolphus wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't as if they were going to let them get away. Now he stood, leaning against the kitchen counter. It was experience that decided that they ought to do it here, the fact that blood washes off tile while it stains fabric, and there was no reason to make it hard on the realtor who would be selling the house in a few weeks. Bellatrix was still idly going through their cabinets and cupboards. They had already rounded up both wands, and Rodolphus hadn't waiting a second to snap them over his knee, although he had burned a finger from the fizz of magical energy that had escaped at the destruction. He had his mask pushed up slightly and was sucking on the hurt digit, giving Bellatrix an unhappy look, still in a mood about her 'I told you so'.

The male auror stirred from his coma, twisting idly and then slightly more panicked when he realized that he was tied, blurry eyes looking frantically until they fell on his wife. He relaxed only slightly, although was still glaring daggers at the deatheaters who stood in his own kitchen. Rodolphus reached over to tap Bella's shoulder to alert her, and they stayed silent until the woman had awoken as well. Finally, Bellatrix was the one who spoke.

"Longbottom, Longbottom…" She was grinning under her mask, painted red lips twisted in a smile more frightening than anything else. "You're a very tricky bunch to track down, you know. But you know what they say: Third time's the charm."

"Actually, this would be the fourth. They already did number three…" Rodolphus' voice slowed and then stopped altogether when Bella's head snapped around to face him with a glare that could strip paint.

"As I was saying. We've finally got you though, no matter how long it's been." She tossed her head absently. She did so hate the hoods; it always gave her awful hair afterwards. "So, shall we settle down to business? It's not kind to keep people waiting, if they've been trying to have a conversation with you for so long." Instead of being such a gracious host, however, Frank made a sound that was almost a snarl as he spoke.

"I can't possibly see what the likes of you could want us to tell you. And you won't get it, no matter what."

The monochromatic couple shared a look, and then both gave a faint laugh. Rodolphus turned towards the briefcase that had been mistaken for carrying religious papers, and upon opening it there was the gleam of surgical tools.

"Oh, you shouldn't speak so quickly."

It was maybe half an hour, and Bellatrix was still angry with him. He was sure of it. She would give him pointed looks and then look back to the victims, lolling in their chairs and held up only thanks to the bindings. Every time he started to speak, he'd meet a wall of such feminine anger than it was almost a physical blockage in his throat, and Rodolphus would give up and turn his attention back to the victim in front of him. He had read somewhere, that's what murders did. That's what people did with a conscience, depersonalize the people they attacked. Don't look them in the eye, turn their face away, call them 'victim' or 'target' or 'bloodtraitor'. Even after everything he had done with Bellatrix, he still found it disconcerting how she sat on Frank's lap, straddling him and staring him in the eye. She didn't even blink as she spoke to him.

"Longbottom. Listen to me. You can make it end, love. You can make it all be over. You just need to tell us what you know. Where he went. Then we'll be out of your lives forever, dear." A slim hand rose to touch his cheek and lift his head back up, and the blood that smeared onto his palm matched her nail polish perfectly. She cradled the head with an intimacy that Rodolphus had never known, and judging by the way that she would look over her shoulder towards him while she did it proved that was her point. It didn't look like Rodolphus would be feeling any intimacy for a long time.

The man looked back up; trying to bring his eyes to focus on Bellatrix's blank mask, try to gather his thoughts. It could be so very hard. His lips twisted and worked for a second, trying to make words, and Bella was once again interested, looking at him closely and reaching forward to wipe a small trail of blood from his bottom lip.

"Yes?" Her voice was husky, utterly attentive.

"I'm not going to tell you anything, you filthy cunt." He managed it weakly, but it was enough to make the woman hiss in anger, slap him hard across the face and stand. She put her arms across her chest, like a child who had been denied an extra treat before bed. It was not the answer she was looking for. Rodolphus had to fight from keeping himself from smirking at her mood, and he couldn't help it finally. She shot him a look that proved that even if he was wearing a mask, she knew what he was doing, and it would be brought up later, in private.

Raising a hand, he pushed back the hood of his cloak and took off the mask, tossing it lazily to the counter. His wife made a horrified sound in the back of her throat, and he looked at her dully. "Oh, come now. Like it really matters." Things had changed since he had Left them. Rodolphus would never have thought to do something so defiant, but it wasn't as if they were going to leave the Longbottoms in any state to identify them afterwards, no matter what answer they received.

Sleeves rolled to his elbows, Rodolphus had long since given up his wand in favor for more traditional tools. He looked at what they did as an art form, as a pleasant hobby you didn't tell the neighbors about, something you honed on muggles that no one would miss. Bellatrix always seemed to take it so very seriously, although she would never touch any of Rodolphus' toys. They were never good enough for the Princess Black, although she had found more than enough ways to do exactly what she wanted with the sultry whisper of a spell and a well-placed wand. He took a few steps closer to Alice, not even asking her a question as he pressed steel to skin, instead speaking to his wife.

"Bellatrix—" Another sound of annoyance, practically a hiss, but he continued anyway, "I really don't see what you're so worked up about, dear heart. You've been in a snit with me all evening, and I really don't know what I'm to apologize for."

"You don't know? How typical! You never know anything. First, you have me play dress-up in some disgusting clothes, _muggle _clothes—Really. What sort of sick fantasy is that?" She hesitated for just a minute before she shook back her own hood and took off her mask, looking over at the Longbottoms for a second before her lips twisted in an moue of distaste at Rodolphus.

"I'm no less adverse to it, Bella. We explained this—We needed a disguise—"

"To get into the house, yes, yes. It was a stupid plan to begin with. I don't see why we ever let you try and think of a plan anyway. Wasn't it a stupid, stupid plan, Frank? Don't you think it would have been terribly more exciting if I had decided it?" She was looking back to auror, the tip of her wand trailing down over his cheek. She cast as soon as Rodolphus opened his mouth to make a rebuttal, and the screaming drowned out his words. The noise made his hand jump, and there was a sudden spurt of blood, spraying up into his face. He swore, raising his hand to rub at his eye absently.

"They better not be crawling with muggle diseases. I'd hate to have to go to St Mungo's and try to explain something like that." He murmured, and Bellatrix gave a tinkling laugh of amusement before they were both drowned out once again.

Another few hours, and it still didn't look like they were getting any answers. When the screaming ended, they always got hoarse excuses of 'we don't know anything' or 'we'll never tell,' or something equally pathetic. They had long since been untied with little or no worry of escape, and Bellatrix stood once again, flicking back her hair. Each time, she always made a mental note to tie it back, and each time she would forget until halfway through. She glanced over to where Rodolphus was standing beside the other man, having switched off not too long ago, and had to admit her anger was cooling.

"What? Does it look like we're finished here? They've been putting up quite a fight, you have to give it to them." He nudged the unconscious body of Mrs. Longbottom with a toe, and she gave a muffled groan from the contact. Really, Rodolphus didn't look much better than either of their prey. There were a few arterial sprays that had landed across his face, and his arms were soaked up to the elbow. It was amazing what the black fabric would hide, however. A bit of his hair had fallen forward, and was drying with the sticky blood on his forehead. Bellatrix's lips quirked in a small smile at the sight, and relished in how it put her husband off balance. She came over, daintily stepping on top of Frank's inert body, coming up to him.

"Roddy?" She was trying to sound all together too innocent, and judging from that gleam in her eye, it was never a good thing. Rodolphus shifted back a little as she brought her hands up to smooth over the chest of his robe.

"Yes, dear?" You can never let them smell the fear, or they just rip you apart.

"Have I ever told you how positively hot you are, like this?" She stood up on her tiptoe, pressing their lips together suddenly. His eyes were widening just a little, although it didn't at all stop him from putting his hands to her back and heartily returning the affection. He wasn't entirely sure where the good mood had come from (well, he did, and they were lying in a pool of blood on the floor), but he was definitely not one to complain.

Doing such activities together really was a good form of marriage counseling.


End file.
